


Kissed By Fire

by EternalFangirl



Series: Kissed By Fire [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, And you are coming with me, Breeding, Cock Warming, Conditioning, F/M, Fucked Up, I am going to hell, Master/Slave, Multi, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 21:34:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11299287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalFangirl/pseuds/EternalFangirl
Summary: It had taken Catelyn months to make it home to Winterfell after the Red Wedding. By then, Jon Targaryen had taken command of the castle as the Prince of the North, heir to his unwed aunt. She had been afraid he would turn her out of her home, but he had surprised her. He had taken her in, and showed her exactly what her purpose was in life.She had resisted, at first, holding on to the belief that she deserved more from him. But not anymore. She understood better now. She belonged to him.





	Kissed By Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Audlie45](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Audlie45/gifts).



> **I don’t even know where the fuck this came from. I am going to hell. And you all are coming with me. Consider this author’s note to be your Lemony Snicket warning. Look away, look away!**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **Or, you know, don’t. I do need you to read my work lol.  
> **  
> 

Her name was Red.

 

Her Master had gifted her with the name, years ago, when she had finally made her way back to his cold castle. She had resisted it, clinging stubbornly to her old name, to all the memories of before, to the idea that she was more than Red. She didn’t think about  _ before  _ anymore. It was better to shy away from the memories of pain and loss and betrayal, from the torture of a feast running red with blood.

 

Master had been kind enough to help her let go of the painful memories. He had been gentle but firm in teaching her, in making her into Red, and she loved him for it. She had resisted too much in the beginning, refusing even to kneel, snarling and screaming at Master. Sometimes, Red cringed when she thought of her ugly behavior. She had thrown all of Master’s kindness in his face and tried to run away from her own destiny.

 

He had told her early on that her cunt belonged to him.  _ No one else will fuck your cunt now,  _ he had said, but she had screamed at him and tried to claw his face when he tried to claim what was his. Even when he had given her to the men in the barracks, when she had spent three days being fucked by every soldier that guarded her Master’s castle, she hadn’t learnt her lesson. Her ass had been torn apart from their impatience, and there had been times when she had wished Master would let them fuck her cunt if only for the sweet relief of wetness, but she had still spit come and blood in his face when he had come back for her. She had still tried to stand.

 

Master had ended up asking the blacksmith for special chains that forced her into the correct posture. There had been soft leather cuffs for her wrists, thighs and feet, with chains running between them to ensure she couldn’t stand. The one that ran from her supple black leather collar to the belt at her waist ensured that she couldn’t lift her head any higher than was needed to serve her Master. He used the one around her waist to hold her to him when he fucked her from behind. It ensured he could be as rough as he liked without slipping out of her. At night, he would let her kneel on the foot of his bed and switch that chain to a shorter one, so that her face was closer to his cock. She would keep it warm all night, and be gifted with his come in the morning. It had taken her weeks to learn how to sleep while still on her knees.

 

She hadn’t worn the chains in so long… Master had taken them off when she had gotten with child. He had loved the way her teats had filled with milk, the way they juggled and moved. The first time she had leaked milk, he had been fucking her after a long, hard day of politics, and she had been horrified at the way it had splattered against Master’s face, afraid of the consequences, afraid of offending him. Instead of stopping, he had fucked her harder, had squeezed her teat hard enough to bruise, and finished inside her as he tasted it. The chains had disappeared the next day from her wrists and feet, leaving only her collar and belt. She was allowed to leave her Master’s chambers and follow him around, ready to serve him when he wanted. He would stop in the middle of his council meetings to drink from her, his eyes on the papers in front of him but his hands kneading insistently. Her breasts were blue more often than white, a badge of his love for her milk, and she wore them with pride.

 

She hadn’t been allowed to see her son.

 

“He isn’t yours, Red,” Master had chided gently when she had tried to ask for him without words. She hadn’t spoken in so long that the words refused to come to her. “You had your chance, didn’t you, before? This child is mine and mine alone, and you were just the broodmare.” He held her as she mewled and cried, wiping away some of the tears before she began to bore him. 

 

“I don’t want a wet nurse for him,” he told her as he milked her. “My son will drink the milk the gods intended for him. I will share, for now.” Wordlessly, she had thanked him for the honor of feeding his son.

 

The milking had stopped a long time ago now. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, and she didn’t know how old her Master’s son would be now. She stared hard at the little boys who tormented her for fun, sticking candles in her ass or feeding her water till she pissed herself. Had one of these boys come from her? She stared and stared, looking even after all this time, but she could never tell. Was he older, then? Had years passed? Was he one of the boys who shoved their cocks down her mouth and came all over her face when they were bored? She mewled and begged prettily for someone to tell her, to show her, but no one understood her sounds. No one other than her Master, and she dared not beg in front of him.

 

Maybe, one day, she would see him. Just once, to see if he maybe looked a little like her, with fire in his hair. 

**Author's Note:**

> **I have an idea for a sequel *hides* Might publish it too if you guys like this one.  
> **   
> 


End file.
